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Mornings In Mexico: “I love trying things and discovering how I hate them.”
For many of us DH Lawrence was a schoolboy hero. Who can forget sniggering in class at the mention of ‘Women In Love’ or ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’? Lawrence was a talented if nomadic writer whose novels were passionately received, suppressed at times and generally at odds with Establishment values. This of course did not deter him. At his death in 1930 at the young age of 44 he was more often thought of as a pornographer but in the ensuing years he has come to be more rightly regarded as one of the most imaginative writers these shores have produced. As well as his novels he was also a masterful poet (he wrote over 800 of them), a travel writer as well as an author of many classic short stories. Here we publish his travel writings ‘Mornings in Mexico’. Once again Lawrence shows his hand as a brilliant writer. Delving into the landscapes and peeling them back to reveal the inner heart.
98 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1902
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About the author
D.H. Lawrence
2,084 books4,177 followersDavid Herbert Richards Lawrence was an English writer of the 20th century, whose prolific and diverse output included novels, short stories, poems, plays, essays, travel books, paintings, translations, literary criticism, and personal letters. His collected works represent an extended reflection upon the dehumanizing effects of modernity and industrialisation. In them, Lawrence confronts issues relating to emotional health and vitality, spontaneity, human sexuality and instinct.
Lawrence's opinions earned him many enemies and he endured official persecution, censorship, and misrepresentation of his creative work throughout the second half of his life, much of which he spent in a voluntary exile he called his "savage pilgrimage." At the time of his death, his public reputation was that of a pornographer who had wasted his considerable talents. E. M. Forster, in an obituary notice, challenged this widely held view, describing him as "the greatest imaginative novelist of our generation." Later, the influential Cambridge critic F. R. Leavis championed both his artistic integrity and his moral seriousness, placing much of Lawrence's fiction within the canonical "great tradition" of the English novel. He is now generally valued as a visionary thinker and a significant representative of modernism in English literature.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D.H._Law...
Lawrence's opinions earned him many enemies and he endured official persecution, censorship, and misrepresentation of his creative work throughout the second half of his life, much of which he spent in a voluntary exile he called his "savage pilgrimage." At the time of his death, his public reputation was that of a pornographer who had wasted his considerable talents. E. M. Forster, in an obituary notice, challenged this widely held view, describing him as "the greatest imaginative novelist of our generation." Later, the influential Cambridge critic F. R. Leavis championed both his artistic integrity and his moral seriousness, placing much of Lawrence's fiction within the canonical "great tradition" of the English novel. He is now generally valued as a visionary thinker and a significant representative of modernism in English literature.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D.H._Law...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
April 24, 2021
তদ্দিনে যক্ষ্মারোগ প্রায় জেঁকে বসেছে লরেন্সের ফুসফুসে। আর পাঁচ বছর টিকবেন টেনেটুনে। ৪৪ এর বেশী আয়ু পাননি।
১৯২৪ সালের এক শীতের সকালে পা রাখলেন ধূসর প্ল্যাটফর্মে। মেক্সিকোর দক্ষিণে ওয়াহাকা শহর। পিনো সুয়ারেজ সড়কে একটি পুরনো বাড়ি ভাড়া নিলেন কয়েক মাসের জন্যে। স্বাস্থ্য পুনরুদ্ধারের চেষ্টা। একটু বিরতি, একটু আরাম। একটু আশপাশ ঘুরে দেখা। আর লেখালেখি।
ছোট বাগানে বোগেনভেলিয়া, রক্তজবা, পয়েনসেটিয়া। বারান্দার টেবিলে বসে লিখলেন The Plumed Serpent উপন্যাস। আর এই ভ্রমণ আলেখ্য। মেক্সিকো এসে কম লোক কলম চালায়নি। গ্রেহাম গ্রীন আর ম্যালকম লাওরি আজও নমস্য। কিন্তু লরেন্স ছিলেন কবি, চুলের ডগা থেকে পায়ের নখ অব্দি। সেই মোহাবিষ্ট গদ্য, কাব্যিক অন্তর্দৃষ্টি এই বইয়ের পরতে পরতে।
তার মধ্যেই একটা লঘু মেজাজের ঘটনা। বাকি বইটা নিরেট কবিতা। নেশার মত।
*
“‘Señor! Señor! Look! Huaraches! Very fine, very finely made! Look, Señor!'
The fat leather man jumps up and holds a pair of sandals at one's breast. They are of narrow woven strips of leather, in the newest Paris style, but a style ancient to these natives. You take them in your hand, and look at them quizzically, while the fat wife of the huarache man reiterates, 'Very fine work. Very fine. Much work!'
Leather men usually seem to have their wives with them.
'How much?'
'Twenty reales.'
'Twenty!'--in a voice of surprise and pained indignation.
'How much do you give?'
You refuse to answer. Instead you put the huaraches to your nose. The huarache man looks at his wife, and they laugh aloud.
'They smell,' you say.
'No, Señor, they don't smell!'--and the two go off into fits of laughter.
'Yes, they smell. It is not American leather.'
'Yes, Señor, it is American leather. They don't smell, Señor. No, they don't smell.' He coaxes you till you wouldn't believe your own nose.
'Yes, they smell.'
'How much do you give?'
'Nothing, because they smell.'
And you give another sniff, though it is painfully unnecessary. And in spite of your refusal to bid, the man and wife go into fits of laughter to see you painfully sniffing.
You lay down the sandals and shake your head.
'How much do you offer?' reiterates the man, gaily.
You shake your head mournfully, and move away. The leather man and his wife look at one another and go off into another fit of laughter, because you smelt the huaraches, and said they stank.
They did. The natives use human excrement for tanning leather. When Bernal Diaz came with Cortés to the great market-place of Mexico City, in Montezuma's day, he saw the little pots of human excrement in rows for sale, and the leather-makers going round sniffing to see which was the best, before they paid for it. It staggered even a fifteenth-century Spaniard. Yet my leather man and his wife think it screamingly funny that I smell the huaraches before buying them. Everything has its own smell, and the natural smell of huaraches is what it is. You might as well quarrel with an onion for smelling like an onion.”
*
PS this being Lawrence, there is obviously some pseud stuff going on, especially in the back half where he moves back north of the border. The first four essays deal with his Oaxaca sojourn, of which Walk to Huayapa and Market Day are exceptional. His account of the mozo Rosalino ain’t bad either. Things move into more abstract territory when DHL goes to Arizona and New Mexico, getting to grips with the Hopi Snake Dance and the Corn Dance and the broader philosophy behind Indian ceremonials. In the end, he finds himself staring up at the Mediterranean moon of Italy, thinking back to the wondrous moon of the vast southwest.
PPS the Hopi Snake Dance chapter, set way up on the Third Mesa in 1924, is exceptional and exceptionally detailed. Lawrence’s enchantment with ancient animistic beliefs (set in sharp contrast to the mechanical cruelty of Abraham and his sons) finds full expression here.
১৯২৪ সালের এক শীতের সকালে পা রাখলেন ধূসর প্ল্যাটফর্মে। মেক্সিকোর দক্ষিণে ওয়াহাকা শহর। পিনো সুয়ারেজ সড়কে একটি পুরনো বাড়ি ভাড়া নিলেন কয়েক মাসের জন্যে। স্বাস্থ্য পুনরুদ্ধারের চেষ্টা। একটু বিরতি, একটু আরাম। একটু আশপাশ ঘুরে দেখা। আর লেখালেখি।
ছোট বাগানে বোগেনভেলিয়া, রক্তজবা, পয়েনসেটিয়া। বারান্দার টেবিলে বসে লিখলেন The Plumed Serpent উপন্যাস। আর এই ভ্রমণ আলেখ্য। মেক্সিকো এসে কম লোক কলম চালায়নি। গ্রেহাম গ্রীন আর ম্যালকম লাওরি আজও নমস্য। কিন্তু লরেন্স ছিলেন কবি, চুলের ডগা থেকে পায়ের নখ অব্দি। সেই মোহাবিষ্ট গদ্য, কাব্যিক অন্তর্দৃষ্টি এই বইয়ের পরতে পরতে।
তার মধ্যেই একটা লঘু মেজাজের ঘটনা। বাকি বইটা নিরেট কবিতা। নেশার মত।
*
“‘Señor! Señor! Look! Huaraches! Very fine, very finely made! Look, Señor!'
The fat leather man jumps up and holds a pair of sandals at one's breast. They are of narrow woven strips of leather, in the newest Paris style, but a style ancient to these natives. You take them in your hand, and look at them quizzically, while the fat wife of the huarache man reiterates, 'Very fine work. Very fine. Much work!'
Leather men usually seem to have their wives with them.
'How much?'
'Twenty reales.'
'Twenty!'--in a voice of surprise and pained indignation.
'How much do you give?'
You refuse to answer. Instead you put the huaraches to your nose. The huarache man looks at his wife, and they laugh aloud.
'They smell,' you say.
'No, Señor, they don't smell!'--and the two go off into fits of laughter.
'Yes, they smell. It is not American leather.'
'Yes, Señor, it is American leather. They don't smell, Señor. No, they don't smell.' He coaxes you till you wouldn't believe your own nose.
'Yes, they smell.'
'How much do you give?'
'Nothing, because they smell.'
And you give another sniff, though it is painfully unnecessary. And in spite of your refusal to bid, the man and wife go into fits of laughter to see you painfully sniffing.
You lay down the sandals and shake your head.
'How much do you offer?' reiterates the man, gaily.
You shake your head mournfully, and move away. The leather man and his wife look at one another and go off into another fit of laughter, because you smelt the huaraches, and said they stank.
They did. The natives use human excrement for tanning leather. When Bernal Diaz came with Cortés to the great market-place of Mexico City, in Montezuma's day, he saw the little pots of human excrement in rows for sale, and the leather-makers going round sniffing to see which was the best, before they paid for it. It staggered even a fifteenth-century Spaniard. Yet my leather man and his wife think it screamingly funny that I smell the huaraches before buying them. Everything has its own smell, and the natural smell of huaraches is what it is. You might as well quarrel with an onion for smelling like an onion.”
*
PS this being Lawrence, there is obviously some pseud stuff going on, especially in the back half where he moves back north of the border. The first four essays deal with his Oaxaca sojourn, of which Walk to Huayapa and Market Day are exceptional. His account of the mozo Rosalino ain’t bad either. Things move into more abstract territory when DHL goes to Arizona and New Mexico, getting to grips with the Hopi Snake Dance and the Corn Dance and the broader philosophy behind Indian ceremonials. In the end, he finds himself staring up at the Mediterranean moon of Italy, thinking back to the wondrous moon of the vast southwest.
PPS the Hopi Snake Dance chapter, set way up on the Third Mesa in 1924, is exceptional and exceptionally detailed. Lawrence’s enchantment with ancient animistic beliefs (set in sharp contrast to the mechanical cruelty of Abraham and his sons) finds full expression here.
May 1, 2020
Tra 4 e 5 stelle: un viaggio in Messico alla scoperta di una cultura che sembra lontana da noi e da cui abbiamo tanto da imparare.
November 27, 2016
A beautiful collection of travel essays thoughtfully written by Lawrence about his life among the Mexican and New Mexican Indians. Lawrence and his wife didn't just pass through and buy a few trinkets at a roadside souvenir stand, they lived there and immersed themselves, as best they could as outsiders, in everything he writes about. Someone else here wrote that he writes prose as if it were poetry which is absolutely true - his repetitive phrasing makes these stories lyrical and poetic. His descriptive writing puts you right there with him watching Rosalino sweep the patio which is heavily hung with the riotous color of ever blossoming native trees and vines, feeling the unbearable heat on a long walk to a neighboring village, dealing with the distrust, frustration, and danger of living among people of a different culture, and experiencing the physical sensations of their ritual dances. Written in 1927, it preserves a way of life not seen by the modern traveler and possibly long gone. A time when life was really like this and these dances were danced for the purpose intended and not at the local Hilton Hotel as entertainment for busloads of paying tourists. A lovely little gem of a book meant to be read early on a summer morning on the porch with a cup of coffee at hand.
May 3, 2012
A surprisingly tasteful and delicate gem of a travel journal. Given the historical timeframe, I expected a more colonialist approach, but Lawrence maintains a careful balance between the paternalism of his generation and a genuine curiosity for Mexican culture. The Spanish is a bit off in parts and it's clear this collection wasn't heavily edited, but these little defects actually add a whit of charm. "Indians and Entertainment" is a great synthesis of Native American and Anglo culture from an outsider's view, which curiously isn't infantilizing in any way. A nice read.
May 1, 2020
Negli anni 1920, Lawrence ha viaggiato diverse volte in Messico, dove rimase affascinato dallo scontro tra bellezza e brutalità, purezza e oscurità.
I suggestivi saggi che compongono Mattinate in Messico danno vita alla semplicità elementale degli indiani Zapotec in Messico, ai ritmi intensi e oscuri degli indiani d'America.
Tra poesia e antropologia, i paesaggi sono descritti con colori vivaci, dettagli semplici e suggestivi catturati con attenzione: i mucchi di frutta in un mercato del villaggio dove gli indiani dal volto scuro si muovono con passo silenzioso, le passeggiate nel cortile colmo di ibisco e rose, i giochi di luce su un muro di mattoni cotti dal sole.
C’è, percorrendo queste terre, la sensazione del nulla e se non ci fossero le chiese sarebbe difficile delimitare un punto, una direzione
C’è l’esercizio e il mistero della solitudine, il silenzio delle montagne e il flusso lento della vita perché“In nessun altro luogo come in Messico la vita umana si isola e rimane distaccata da ciò che le sta attorno, tagliata fuori dal territorio circostante”
I suggestivi saggi che compongono Mattinate in Messico danno vita alla semplicità elementale degli indiani Zapotec in Messico, ai ritmi intensi e oscuri degli indiani d'America.
Tra poesia e antropologia, i paesaggi sono descritti con colori vivaci, dettagli semplici e suggestivi catturati con attenzione: i mucchi di frutta in un mercato del villaggio dove gli indiani dal volto scuro si muovono con passo silenzioso, le passeggiate nel cortile colmo di ibisco e rose, i giochi di luce su un muro di mattoni cotti dal sole.
C’è, percorrendo queste terre, la sensazione del nulla e se non ci fossero le chiese sarebbe difficile delimitare un punto, una direzione
C’è l’esercizio e il mistero della solitudine, il silenzio delle montagne e il flusso lento della vita perché“In nessun altro luogo come in Messico la vita umana si isola e rimane distaccata da ciò che le sta attorno, tagliata fuori dal territorio circostante”
June 30, 2018
How do you adapt or feel comfortable in an environment that is not yours, in a country that is not your own- you observe and adapt. The key lies in destroying everything familiar and habitual and approach all new without judgement.
"In the old world, men make themselves two great excuses for coming together: market and religion. To buy, to sell, to barter, to exchange. To exchange, above all, human contact".
I enjoyed, I loved everything about this book. The utter calm that is placed on me, the beautiful flamboyant descriptions of this vibrant Latin-American country, the weird customs that I have to adapt with if I wish to stay at ease with the story rolling itself open before me..
Lawrence is a bit of his own, a kind of his own because me makes you to listen. He makes you to wonder and, oh so gently, guides you through the setting.
Wonderfully-written, loving, adoring, exploring, yet critical, observant, arguing, pointing. Splendid
"In the old world, men make themselves two great excuses for coming together: market and religion. To buy, to sell, to barter, to exchange. To exchange, above all, human contact".
I enjoyed, I loved everything about this book. The utter calm that is placed on me, the beautiful flamboyant descriptions of this vibrant Latin-American country, the weird customs that I have to adapt with if I wish to stay at ease with the story rolling itself open before me..
Lawrence is a bit of his own, a kind of his own because me makes you to listen. He makes you to wonder and, oh so gently, guides you through the setting.
Wonderfully-written, loving, adoring, exploring, yet critical, observant, arguing, pointing. Splendid
December 15, 2011
This may have been my favorite book that I read all year. It starts with the essay on the relationship of the parrots in his garden to himself and dog and his servant and goes up from there. All the while saying interesting, thought-halting things about religion and culture and ourselves.
This is one of the few books that I'm actually going to keep a copy of on my bookshelf rather than recycling.
This is one of the few books that I'm actually going to keep a copy of on my bookshelf rather than recycling.
August 4, 2011
This collection of lyrical essays about Mexico and New Mexico is exquisite. The description of the Hopi snake dance is amazing. The title essay (Mornings in Mexico) is just gorgeous. Lawrence wrote prose as if it were poetry.
What a pleasure to reread after all these years.
What a pleasure to reread after all these years.
June 24, 2012
This is a collection of stories about life in old Mexico and the Southwest U.S. in the early 1900s. New to Lawrence, it took some time before I connected with his style. It is rich with observation and description. In one piece, he writes that "If there were no churches to mark a point in these villages, there would be nowhere at all to make for. The sense of nowhere is intense...." The market he says, is more than a place to buy and sell. Above all, it's a place to "comingle" and "To exchange, above all things, human contact." "The centavos are an excuse." Lawrence observes that the Indian's "whole being is going a different way from ours. And the minute you set your eyes on him, you know it." This is a book that can be read again for enjoyment.
July 9, 2022
Aimless, detached, and surprisingly racist. Not Lawrence’s finest moment…
November 29, 2014
A collection of essays, mostly from 1924, Mornings in Mexico is D.H. Lawrence’s keen observations of the Zapotec Indians in Mexico, and the native Indians of the American Southwest. Lawrence does well to get inside the head of the Zapotec Indians, although my impression from his text was that he was intrigued by their beliefs and ways while at the same time mocking them, or perhaps it is just the whimsical prose of his essays. He prefers the continual regeneration of everything from nothing in an endless cycle over long term evolution, but perhaps because it appears more quaint and is so utterly different to what he was brought up with.
I preferred the Mexican essays over the American Indian ones, purely out of personal interest over anything else. Lawrence takes a very wry look at the dog in Corasmin and the Parrots, while the walk to Huayapa is a Sunday distraction. The last one is a very clever look at Market day, sharply observed, not just on the surface, but also the role it plays within the life of the town and it’s surrounding area.
Moving to the native American Indians, Lawrence gives lengthly accounts of some of their sacred dances, again seemingly somewhere between painstaking detail and gently patronising.
While Lawrence piercingly observes the Indians, from the features to the smallest of actions I found the short, sharp sentences caused me to stutter through the essays, which diverge from cosmic beliefs and the Indian’s view of their place in the world, to a walk to the next town for something to do. After a while I got used to the style, but couldn’t say I took to it, I am intrigued to try something else by Lawrence to see if I could spend longer than a morning with him.
(blog review here)
I preferred the Mexican essays over the American Indian ones, purely out of personal interest over anything else. Lawrence takes a very wry look at the dog in Corasmin and the Parrots, while the walk to Huayapa is a Sunday distraction. The last one is a very clever look at Market day, sharply observed, not just on the surface, but also the role it plays within the life of the town and it’s surrounding area.
Moving to the native American Indians, Lawrence gives lengthly accounts of some of their sacred dances, again seemingly somewhere between painstaking detail and gently patronising.
While Lawrence piercingly observes the Indians, from the features to the smallest of actions I found the short, sharp sentences caused me to stutter through the essays, which diverge from cosmic beliefs and the Indian’s view of their place in the world, to a walk to the next town for something to do. After a while I got used to the style, but couldn’t say I took to it, I am intrigued to try something else by Lawrence to see if I could spend longer than a morning with him.
(blog review here)
September 21, 2019
The clear rhythmic prose by D.H. Lawrence, follows the beat of the ancient indian dances he is privy to have watched when they still meant something other than tourist entertainment. He makes you think about the place of humans in the universe we live in and questions in how far we can identify with the psyche of the indigenous indian or indeed any animistic people. We can only have a second ghost separate of our main ghost to live the mind of the other belief domain.
Apart from his essays on the Zapotec, Taos and Hopi culture there were some short stories and sketches that colourfully transmitted the feeling of living among the zapotec and taos people through the senses of the thoroughly western and mainly rational D.H.Lawrence. Wondering and at the same time synchronizing his second ghost, writing down this experience for us to wonder though his stories. Corasmin and the parrots, the mozo and a walk to Huayapa are wonderful depictions of the tempo, thoughts and temperaments of those clashing with the modern western culture but psychologically and physically still very much rooted in the ancient ways of men.
This was an easy read and i can recommend it heartily to anyone with even a passing interest in other cultures in transition from ancient to modern times, or wants to read anything by D.H.Lawrence.
Apart from his essays on the Zapotec, Taos and Hopi culture there were some short stories and sketches that colourfully transmitted the feeling of living among the zapotec and taos people through the senses of the thoroughly western and mainly rational D.H.Lawrence. Wondering and at the same time synchronizing his second ghost, writing down this experience for us to wonder though his stories. Corasmin and the parrots, the mozo and a walk to Huayapa are wonderful depictions of the tempo, thoughts and temperaments of those clashing with the modern western culture but psychologically and physically still very much rooted in the ancient ways of men.
This was an easy read and i can recommend it heartily to anyone with even a passing interest in other cultures in transition from ancient to modern times, or wants to read anything by D.H.Lawrence.
December 20, 2016
Some of the essays sparked my interest more than others (I enjoyed Corasmin and the Parrots and The Mozo the most), but none struck me as particularly insightful or engaging - and, to me, any writing should be at least one of these.
October 1, 2017
Loved the writing style and imagery, slow, meandering like a relaxed conversation. The book does seem to include the implicit racism of the time which subtracts from the enjoyment. However, overlooking that the descriptions of religion and the culture are pretty neat.
November 18, 2013
Impressively racist and pretentious...but strangely beautiful.
July 29, 2016
Interesting in parts but mostly just v. racist
April 2, 2018
Two and a half stars, really: sometimes I really enjoyed it when Lawrence was ripping along with the description, while at others I was bogged down by the Gospel of St Herbert of Nottingham.
These are simply a collection of essays-cum-travelogues based on Lawrence's time in Mexico and New Mexico. They cover topics such as his dog, a picnic, market day, a walk, the nature of aboriginal peoples, the difference between Western and aboriginal culture, and lengthy descriptions of Indian ritual dances.
At his best, I think his prose throbs with a pulse which embodies his personal response to experience in a style that catches his apprehension of life and Life (if you take my distinction). This is achieved both by an intense piling up of physical detail in phrases that often repeat words by way of leading from one moment to another, by the artful disposition of verbs, adverbs, and adjectives, and by phrases or single words tacked on to clauses. Often the sentences are long rhythmic units punctuated with shorter ones. I’m struggling a bit to describe this, but it’s important in trying to assess why Lawrence works so well when he’s in full and delightful flight. Perhaps the following illustrates what I mean?
‘They pace round in a circle, rudely, absorbedly, till the first heavy, intense old man with his massive grey hair flowing, comes to the lid on the ground, near the tuft of kiva-boughs. He rapidly shakes from the hollow of his right hand a little white meal on the lid, stamps heavily, with naked right foot, on the meal, so the wood resounds, and paces heavily forward. Each man, to the boy, shakes meal, stamps, paces absorbedly on in the circle, comes to the lid again, shakes meal, stamps, paces absorbedly on, comes a third time to the lid, or trap-door, and this time spits on the lid, stamps, and goes on.’
And he has a lovely eye for colour and freshness.
‘This is the last Saturday before Christmas. The next year will be momentous, one feels. This year is nearly gone. Dawn was windy, shaking the leaves, and the rising sun shone under a gap of yellow cloud. But at once it touched the yellow flowers that rise above the patio wall, and the swaying, glowing magenta of the bougainvillea, and the fierce red outbursts of the poinsettia. The poinsettia is very splendid, the flowers very big, and of a sure stainless red.’
How many writers would feel comfortable in using a phrase such as ‘very splendid’? There’s something instinctive in the lexical choice there.
However, if he decides that description is not enough and that meaning must be extracted from it to educate his reader, then he’s a pretty tedious read. In particular in this collection, this pertains to his musings on American aboriginal culture. There, I’m afraid, the rhythmic sway of the prose fails to engage because I haven’t a clue what he’s on about.
On the other hand, if I read it aloud, just for the sound of it, I find it very persuasive. I’m sure that it would have been this that gripped me as a young man. It’s quasi-Biblical in effect, the prophet inspired and in full voice. But if I try to rationalise it, I’m lost.
And maybe that’s Lawrence’s point. Western minds are too habituated to thinking, and it’s only by feeling that we will reconnect with the forces of life that looking closely at and simply being in the natural world allow us to apprehend.
Nevertheless, being older than that younger self, I don’t find I can abandon myself to the full-throated propheteering voice, and I respond irritably to what I now feel to be rant rather than inspired luminosity. Well, tastes change, and I wouldn’t be without some poems in ‘Birds, Beast and Flowers’, but I’m not sure I’ll revisit ‘The Rainbow’ or ‘Women’ in Love’.
Glad to have read this, though.
These are simply a collection of essays-cum-travelogues based on Lawrence's time in Mexico and New Mexico. They cover topics such as his dog, a picnic, market day, a walk, the nature of aboriginal peoples, the difference between Western and aboriginal culture, and lengthy descriptions of Indian ritual dances.
At his best, I think his prose throbs with a pulse which embodies his personal response to experience in a style that catches his apprehension of life and Life (if you take my distinction). This is achieved both by an intense piling up of physical detail in phrases that often repeat words by way of leading from one moment to another, by the artful disposition of verbs, adverbs, and adjectives, and by phrases or single words tacked on to clauses. Often the sentences are long rhythmic units punctuated with shorter ones. I’m struggling a bit to describe this, but it’s important in trying to assess why Lawrence works so well when he’s in full and delightful flight. Perhaps the following illustrates what I mean?
‘They pace round in a circle, rudely, absorbedly, till the first heavy, intense old man with his massive grey hair flowing, comes to the lid on the ground, near the tuft of kiva-boughs. He rapidly shakes from the hollow of his right hand a little white meal on the lid, stamps heavily, with naked right foot, on the meal, so the wood resounds, and paces heavily forward. Each man, to the boy, shakes meal, stamps, paces absorbedly on in the circle, comes to the lid again, shakes meal, stamps, paces absorbedly on, comes a third time to the lid, or trap-door, and this time spits on the lid, stamps, and goes on.’
And he has a lovely eye for colour and freshness.
‘This is the last Saturday before Christmas. The next year will be momentous, one feels. This year is nearly gone. Dawn was windy, shaking the leaves, and the rising sun shone under a gap of yellow cloud. But at once it touched the yellow flowers that rise above the patio wall, and the swaying, glowing magenta of the bougainvillea, and the fierce red outbursts of the poinsettia. The poinsettia is very splendid, the flowers very big, and of a sure stainless red.’
How many writers would feel comfortable in using a phrase such as ‘very splendid’? There’s something instinctive in the lexical choice there.
However, if he decides that description is not enough and that meaning must be extracted from it to educate his reader, then he’s a pretty tedious read. In particular in this collection, this pertains to his musings on American aboriginal culture. There, I’m afraid, the rhythmic sway of the prose fails to engage because I haven’t a clue what he’s on about.
On the other hand, if I read it aloud, just for the sound of it, I find it very persuasive. I’m sure that it would have been this that gripped me as a young man. It’s quasi-Biblical in effect, the prophet inspired and in full voice. But if I try to rationalise it, I’m lost.
And maybe that’s Lawrence’s point. Western minds are too habituated to thinking, and it’s only by feeling that we will reconnect with the forces of life that looking closely at and simply being in the natural world allow us to apprehend.
Nevertheless, being older than that younger self, I don’t find I can abandon myself to the full-throated propheteering voice, and I respond irritably to what I now feel to be rant rather than inspired luminosity. Well, tastes change, and I wouldn’t be without some poems in ‘Birds, Beast and Flowers’, but I’m not sure I’ll revisit ‘The Rainbow’ or ‘Women’ in Love’.
Glad to have read this, though.
September 30, 2024
My Interest
I started reading this novella length book of essays a few years ago. I eagerly read the first few chapters or essays. Then I had to put it aside. When I decided it was time to do CC Spins again (I’d taken a break) I put it on the list since I owned it.
The Essays
“The mountains are clothed smokily with pine, ocote, and, like a women in a gauze rebozo, they rear in rich blue fume that is almost cornflower-blue in the clefts. It is their characteristic, that they are darkest-blue at the top. Like some splendid lizard with a waverying, royal-blue crest down the ridge of his back, and plae belly, and soft, pinky-fawn claws, on the plain”
This is the sort of writing that drew me in–it is, after all, a book of travel essays. Descirbing the place, the atmosphe–that’s where this book was wonderful.
Even given that it was written in 1927 and the world WAS a very racist place–the US had just had a very recently (1914 and 1916) invaded Mexico, I felt the chapters on the people, both Mexicans and Native Americans, were beyond endurance. (The middle cover, pictured at the top of this post, give you some idea). Lawrence was so obnoxious in his superiority to them. Equating them to animals and worse was just too much for me in the America of the 2024 presidential election in which on side claims legal, black immigrants are eating pets–even when the town’s mayor and other officials are saying it isn’t true. Too “today” for me.
The chapters/essays on The Dance of the Sprouting Corn and the Hopi Snake dance did at least paint a picture of the celebrations. A modicum of respect enters the prose. I could envision these same dances being performed at the tourist traps of today but with more explanation. Culture that sells.
My Thoughts
I gave up with the chapters that mostly discussed the people and skimmed the remaining essays. I enjoyed another nonfiction book set in the Southwest at the same time as this book was written, Ladies of the Canyons: A League of Extraordinary Women, in which D.H. Lawrence is a guest. I highly recommend it. (My review is linked).
Perhaps if you aren’t in the USA right now or can stomach more derragatory prose than I can, then read Mornings in Mexico. Or read it because you want to have read everything by D.H. Lawrence.
I started reading this novella length book of essays a few years ago. I eagerly read the first few chapters or essays. Then I had to put it aside. When I decided it was time to do CC Spins again (I’d taken a break) I put it on the list since I owned it.
The Essays
“The mountains are clothed smokily with pine, ocote, and, like a women in a gauze rebozo, they rear in rich blue fume that is almost cornflower-blue in the clefts. It is their characteristic, that they are darkest-blue at the top. Like some splendid lizard with a waverying, royal-blue crest down the ridge of his back, and plae belly, and soft, pinky-fawn claws, on the plain”
This is the sort of writing that drew me in–it is, after all, a book of travel essays. Descirbing the place, the atmosphe–that’s where this book was wonderful.
Even given that it was written in 1927 and the world WAS a very racist place–the US had just had a very recently (1914 and 1916) invaded Mexico, I felt the chapters on the people, both Mexicans and Native Americans, were beyond endurance. (The middle cover, pictured at the top of this post, give you some idea). Lawrence was so obnoxious in his superiority to them. Equating them to animals and worse was just too much for me in the America of the 2024 presidential election in which on side claims legal, black immigrants are eating pets–even when the town’s mayor and other officials are saying it isn’t true. Too “today” for me.
The chapters/essays on The Dance of the Sprouting Corn and the Hopi Snake dance did at least paint a picture of the celebrations. A modicum of respect enters the prose. I could envision these same dances being performed at the tourist traps of today but with more explanation. Culture that sells.
My Thoughts
I gave up with the chapters that mostly discussed the people and skimmed the remaining essays. I enjoyed another nonfiction book set in the Southwest at the same time as this book was written, Ladies of the Canyons: A League of Extraordinary Women, in which D.H. Lawrence is a guest. I highly recommend it. (My review is linked).
Perhaps if you aren’t in the USA right now or can stomach more derragatory prose than I can, then read Mornings in Mexico. Or read it because you want to have read everything by D.H. Lawrence.
November 2, 2019
Since I have a penchant for anything that transpired in the 1920's, coupled with my love of Mexico, well, "Mornings in Mexico" should have been a hit out of the park for me. Sadly, it wasn't. I did appreciate D.H. Lawrence's gift of description, where he has a talent for making a dew drop come alive. And, yes, at times he captured the nuances I love about Mexico: the light, the tastes, the air, the stillness, the smells, and the dramatic extremes in cultures. However, that is precisely where this book lost me.
I should have known that mankind has, thankfully, changed perspective in almost 100 years, but I just couldn't get passed Lawrence's condescending view of the indigenous people of Mexico, specifically the Indians of Oaxaca. He described our understanding of them in two ways: sentimentalism; or, hatred. He seemed to intimate that we whites, as the 'ruling class', could only pity or hate; that, we could never truly have compassion for the way they lived. I get that Lawrence was, in his very limited way, trying to get us to look at ourselves, but much too simplistically. And, at the detriment of a whole segment of society.
I think our sophistication as an evolving mankind has advanced because of technology making the world smaller. I grew up with the knowledge that indigenous people have more to teach us than the other way around. My trips to Mexico humble me in the presence of a culture that is far more advanced in the spiritual, artistic and mathematical ways of our forefathers. I am proud of my indigenous blood and actually envy anyone who is Mexican by nationality. However, I do understand this book is a relic of the past.
As a writer, I know I can glean Lawrence's appreciation for the beauty of Mexico. And for that, it is worth the read. Vale la pena.
I should have known that mankind has, thankfully, changed perspective in almost 100 years, but I just couldn't get passed Lawrence's condescending view of the indigenous people of Mexico, specifically the Indians of Oaxaca. He described our understanding of them in two ways: sentimentalism; or, hatred. He seemed to intimate that we whites, as the 'ruling class', could only pity or hate; that, we could never truly have compassion for the way they lived. I get that Lawrence was, in his very limited way, trying to get us to look at ourselves, but much too simplistically. And, at the detriment of a whole segment of society.
I think our sophistication as an evolving mankind has advanced because of technology making the world smaller. I grew up with the knowledge that indigenous people have more to teach us than the other way around. My trips to Mexico humble me in the presence of a culture that is far more advanced in the spiritual, artistic and mathematical ways of our forefathers. I am proud of my indigenous blood and actually envy anyone who is Mexican by nationality. However, I do understand this book is a relic of the past.
As a writer, I know I can glean Lawrence's appreciation for the beauty of Mexico. And for that, it is worth the read. Vale la pena.
March 19, 2020
I love Mexico, having built a house there and lived there off and on for 15 years. Mornings in Mexico is a step back in time to 1924 Mexico, specifically Oaxaca. It is captured in a series of essays by D. H. Lawrence who came to love it through extended time spent there after fleeing England post World War I.
This is a departure from his novels such as Lady Chatterley's Lover. It is a reflective look into a different culture as seen through the eyes of a Brit. Mexico would have been a decidedly different place back then from the resort-laden coasts that most people associate the country with today. Even those of us who've experienced a fair amount of travel within its interior would have found much of Mexico in the early 20th Century as rather harsh and even foreboding. Reading through the four essays on Mexico, I found some of its eternal charms peaking through, things I'm familiar with, such as the colorful markets, animal sounds of the countryside, especially as evening falls, the stark beauty of the hills and barren landscape, dotted here and there with villages and church towers.
The book also includes four essays on the Native American communities around Taos, New Mexico and west into Navajo territory. His descriptions of the the Corn Dance and Hopi Snake Dance bring us intimately into these ancient cultures.
This collection of essays is more a travelogue of early 20th Century Native American cultures, both in Mexico and the US. It is a bittersweet depiction of cultures in transition that shaped their respective geographical areas. And it is a reminder of the rich offerings that they continue to advance today.
This is a departure from his novels such as Lady Chatterley's Lover. It is a reflective look into a different culture as seen through the eyes of a Brit. Mexico would have been a decidedly different place back then from the resort-laden coasts that most people associate the country with today. Even those of us who've experienced a fair amount of travel within its interior would have found much of Mexico in the early 20th Century as rather harsh and even foreboding. Reading through the four essays on Mexico, I found some of its eternal charms peaking through, things I'm familiar with, such as the colorful markets, animal sounds of the countryside, especially as evening falls, the stark beauty of the hills and barren landscape, dotted here and there with villages and church towers.
The book also includes four essays on the Native American communities around Taos, New Mexico and west into Navajo territory. His descriptions of the the Corn Dance and Hopi Snake Dance bring us intimately into these ancient cultures.
This collection of essays is more a travelogue of early 20th Century Native American cultures, both in Mexico and the US. It is a bittersweet depiction of cultures in transition that shaped their respective geographical areas. And it is a reminder of the rich offerings that they continue to advance today.
November 8, 2023
I saw Lady Chatterly’s Lover last year and bought it was superb. When I came across Mornings in Mexico I was intrigued to dive into it, expecting much of an equal deeply sensual yet exciting travelogue on Mexico. To my disappointment, I was not fascinated the least. First of only the first 2 or 3 chapters actually take place in Mexico, while the rest focuses on Native American tribes and culture in Arizona and New Mexico and the last chapter seems to happen in Italy, although I’m still not quite sure if it does or if he’s just reminiscing about Italy or vice versa. This type of confusing writing style encompasses much of the essays. The first chapter felt promising yet the more I read on, the more I got bored. I expected vivid descriptions of Mexico, it’s people and landscapes but Lawrence barely touched on that. Here and there he beautifully captures the indigenous and the Mexican landscapes but they are far and few.
February 20, 2019
Meh! Admittedly, Oaxaca was a very different place a hundred years ago but with Lawrence's telling it must as well have been Pluto. Some of his descriptions are lovely but his prose is almost inaccessible at times and his attitude superior which I guess was pretty common place at that time. Killed all motivation to read his The Plumed Serpent which was inspired by his time there.
July 29, 2024
I happen to think that Lawrence is a rather overrated author. If anything serves to confirm my view it's this book.
Dull, dull, dull.
Oh, and didn't Dave know that Arizona and New Mexico are not in Mexico?
Dull, dull, dull.
Oh, and didn't Dave know that Arizona and New Mexico are not in Mexico?
January 19, 2019
Some excellent descriptions of ceremonial dances, but he was very condescending to “the Indian”.
June 4, 2019
Loved the first half... especially Market Day
January 20, 2020
Seemed at first to be typical racist & weenie superiority of these time, but he showed real interest & respect in chapter on religion.
October 15, 2021
Lawrence is an acquired taste. He isn't mine. There are speculations, repetitions, images but not much about Mexico. Fortunately the book is short.
May 28, 2023
Good travel stories
April 26, 2025
Beautifully written, inherently racist.
March 4, 2014
I bought this book shortly after visiting 2 Etruscan burial places on a trip to Italy. D H Lawrence’s piece, ‘Etruscan Places’ were mentioned in our tour notes and so I was very pleased to find a copy. He had also visited the two that I had; Cerveteri and Tarquinia. So this book is concerned with Lawrence’s thoughts on the clues left behind by vanished civilsations according to the book’s blurb and not a mere travel book.
Also in the book is Lawrence’s essay on Mexico. According to the book’s blurb, ‘he was fascinated by the Mexican Indians and the Etruscans who had been overshadowed by nearby societies who were more efficient and progressive.’ The Romans, in particular, admired and respected the latter.
The Etruscans are a vanished race who left no written records or even their language as a lasting memory. What they seem to have left behind are their burial places, funerary items and some striking statues. The Museum at Tarquinia has a fine collection of these including several rooms of cinerary urns with two figures, generally a man and a woman and so presumably a married couple, in 3d form on the lids reclining as if at a banquet. It was very exciting to think that I had gazed on some of the same objects on which Lawrence had also gazed.
In ‘Mornings in Mexico’ which precedes Etruscan Places Lawrence describes an outsider’s view of the Mexican way of life from the everyday and mundane to their celebrations and dances. Lawrence lived in New Mexico and Mexico for 2 years during the early years of the 20th century. His years there obviously left a lasting impression and these are no tourist’s notes. He didn’t see the Mexicans as entertainment but instead, observed their daily lives and rituals. He was fortunate to witness two great celebratory and mystic dances; the Dance of the Sprouting Corn and the Hopi Snake Dance. These may now be mere dances without any real meaning as traditions and knowledge begin to erode over time. In fact Lawrence’s essay is now a historical one.
I had originally planned to use ‘Etruscan Places’ as research for my blog to accompany my comments and photos on my visit but when I finished reading and notes taking I felt quite envious of Lawrence. He visited these places long before tourists found their way there and even now they are still out of the way places. But, as well as Cerveteri and Tarquinia, he also went to Vulci and Volterra which are more off the beaten track.
He discusses the painted tombs of Tarquinia in 2 sections. They are justly revered for their brightly painted reliefs which depict everyday life such as hunting and fishing together with scenes from the life of the deceased. These featured in a recent BBC TV series featuring Andrew Graham Dixon and an Italian cook, Giorgio Locatelli, as they toured Italy. Lawrence also describes the looted, desecrated and abandoned burial places of Vulci with sympathy. He ponders te fate of the Etruscans and I found his research and comments invaluable.
The Etruscans are fascinating; they were the first indigenous people in Europe to organise themselves into an urban, civilisation. The Romans respected them and adopted many of their symbols such as the purple robe. The Etruscans golden age was during the 6t and 7th centuries BC but by the 1st century BC they had vanished. Lawrence’s essay sheds further light on them.
Also in the book is Lawrence’s essay on Mexico. According to the book’s blurb, ‘he was fascinated by the Mexican Indians and the Etruscans who had been overshadowed by nearby societies who were more efficient and progressive.’ The Romans, in particular, admired and respected the latter.
The Etruscans are a vanished race who left no written records or even their language as a lasting memory. What they seem to have left behind are their burial places, funerary items and some striking statues. The Museum at Tarquinia has a fine collection of these including several rooms of cinerary urns with two figures, generally a man and a woman and so presumably a married couple, in 3d form on the lids reclining as if at a banquet. It was very exciting to think that I had gazed on some of the same objects on which Lawrence had also gazed.
In ‘Mornings in Mexico’ which precedes Etruscan Places Lawrence describes an outsider’s view of the Mexican way of life from the everyday and mundane to their celebrations and dances. Lawrence lived in New Mexico and Mexico for 2 years during the early years of the 20th century. His years there obviously left a lasting impression and these are no tourist’s notes. He didn’t see the Mexicans as entertainment but instead, observed their daily lives and rituals. He was fortunate to witness two great celebratory and mystic dances; the Dance of the Sprouting Corn and the Hopi Snake Dance. These may now be mere dances without any real meaning as traditions and knowledge begin to erode over time. In fact Lawrence’s essay is now a historical one.
I had originally planned to use ‘Etruscan Places’ as research for my blog to accompany my comments and photos on my visit but when I finished reading and notes taking I felt quite envious of Lawrence. He visited these places long before tourists found their way there and even now they are still out of the way places. But, as well as Cerveteri and Tarquinia, he also went to Vulci and Volterra which are more off the beaten track.
He discusses the painted tombs of Tarquinia in 2 sections. They are justly revered for their brightly painted reliefs which depict everyday life such as hunting and fishing together with scenes from the life of the deceased. These featured in a recent BBC TV series featuring Andrew Graham Dixon and an Italian cook, Giorgio Locatelli, as they toured Italy. Lawrence also describes the looted, desecrated and abandoned burial places of Vulci with sympathy. He ponders te fate of the Etruscans and I found his research and comments invaluable.
The Etruscans are fascinating; they were the first indigenous people in Europe to organise themselves into an urban, civilisation. The Romans respected them and adopted many of their symbols such as the purple robe. The Etruscans golden age was during the 6t and 7th centuries BC but by the 1st century BC they had vanished. Lawrence’s essay sheds further light on them.
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